


Once A Year We Celebrate

by stilesinwonderland (itsabravenewworld)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Birthday, Drinking, Funny, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 07:31:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1679939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsabravenewworld/pseuds/stilesinwonderland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles Stilinski's 21st birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once A Year We Celebrate

"We're going to get _drunk_ tonight," Stiles marvels, collapses into his dorm bed with a rustle of sheets. In the close proximity of their dorm, he’s only inches from Scott at the desk, and he pokes at his best friend’s side until his hand is smacked away.

 

Scott huffs. "We've been getting drunk ever since we came to college." Scott has his head down and is finishing his outline something-or-other for his class.

 

"No, but I mean _legally_ drunk. I can, _by law,_ be drunk. I have never felt as wasted as I will tonight." Stiles laughs boisterously, fluffs a pillow under his head and kicks at Scott's thigh a few feet from him.

 

"I don't understand you," Scott tells him, chews on his pencil with a sick crunching noise. Stiles whines, tears it out of his grip and tosses it onto the floor. Scott squawks indignantly, bends over to pick it up off the floor with a grumbled complaint.

 

"Okay, so I know you're studying to be a special brain doctor to save lives or whatever, but it's my _birthday,_ we need to do things!"

 

Scott grins but doesn't look up from his biochemistry homework. "There's your party later on," he points out. "You can drink legally all you want _then_. But right _now_ it's ten o'clock, so we can't really do that. Not if you don’t want liver damage," he adds when Stiles opens his mouth to argue.

 

"So then what do we do?" Stiles asks. He checks his phone for the millionth time, and besides the twenty texts messages he’s gotten from his friends, there’s one missing. A very special one.

 

"Paintball?"

 

Stiles groans, taps himself on the forehead with his cell. "Banned. Erica's claw thing, remember? ‘Banned for _life_ ,’" he adds mournfully.

 

"Right." Scott winces. Erica and the rest of the pack had only come to visit Stiles and Scott twice, and in that time, she managed to get them booted out of the one decent place in their town, and their favorite hangout spot. Erica’s competitive streak resulted in the breakdown and chopping of a few walls that separated the area into a maze. The managers hadn’t been pleased, especially assuming the usage of knives was a factor. “At least they didn’t charge us with destruction of property.”

 

“Small victories.” Stiles unlocks his phone. He gives in not texting first, and says, _Hey sunshine._

 

Derek is never known for replying speedily, so Stiles lifts his hips and slips his phone into his back pocket, then sits up. "So let's go to _Marie's_ and convince her to give us an extra slice of pie for my birthday."

 

"That's not fair," Scott says, shouldering his jacket on. "She already gives us free coffee."

 

"Yeah, I know. You're paying for the pie then!"

 

-

 

Stiles's face breaks into a grin at the sight of Marie wiping down a grainy countertop with a ruddy-white rag. She looks up when the tiny bell hanging over the door rings. "Hi doll face," he says to her, slipping onto a barstool with Scott at his side; she swats at his arm but smiles nonetheless with wrinkles lining her foreheads and the corners of her mouth. "You're looking a vision as always."

 

"You know there’s none of that in front of other customers, Stiles," the elderly woman hisses conspiratorially, winks. "And Herb might get jealous again. You know how he is." Her husband grunts over from his seat in the back where he's doing the taxes. Marie cackles and slaps Stiles on the shoulder again with an arthritis-swollen hand. She reaches under the counter and grabs a few cups and menus for the two of them.

 

The corner of Stiles's lips twitch up warmly. "You know I just can't help myself," he tells her mournfully with a hand placed to his chest.

 

Marie eyes Scott with her startling blue eyes and hands them their menus. “And you didn’t bring your little boyfriend today.” Scott waves even as she gives him a distasteful glare. “Shame.” She clicks her tongue, and Stiles resists laughing in Scott’s shocked face, puts a fist in front of his mouth and snorts.

 

Stiles and Marie get along mostly because even though she's nearing eighty years old, she acts like she's about to date any of the young college students that walk into her diner (she tells everyone that she works the counters because she doesn’t want to hire new staff but Stiles knows better). She doesn't mind that Stiles talks a large amount either; she's content to listen. She'd told a frustrated Derek that had wanted to know how she dealt with Stiles that ' _men really learn how to keep talking until they make your ears bleed. He's just learned early is all.’_

 

She loves Derek too, simply because she says he’s easy to look at. So whenever Stiles brings Scott to _Marie’s_ instead of him, she acts much less polite. Scott, bless him, simply smiles at her and places a large hand atop her tiny trembling fingers. “It’s always nice to see you, Marie.”

 

Marie smiles back good-humoredly , pours them both generous cups of coffee, takes their orders, and leaves them to themselves so she can take care of a young couple sitting on the other side of the counter. She rolls her deep-set eyes and mutters to them about how they’re making the old woman do more work, before setting off with a slight hobble towards the couple.

 

Stiles opens four sugar packets and pours them in his coffee and stirs with one hand, pulls out his phone with the other. _Happy birthday Stiles,_ Derek’s texted him back. Scott jabs at him and tells him he’s smiling like an idiot so Stiles busies himself with typing a response and wills his blush away.

 

_Thanks! We’re at Marie’s, want to stop by?_

 

It’s two cups of coffee and an egg later that Derek texts him. Stiles slurps the last of his yolk up sloppily, unlocks his phone to read it.

 

_Can’t, but I’ve got to go. Talk later_

 

Stiles huffs and shows Scott the text. Scott tosses his bacon-sheathed fork to the side and shrugs, fixes him with a look that says _you’re really the only one who gets him so I have no idea what that means._

 

Marie hands Stiles a free, obnoxiously large slice of pie anyways when Scott abruptly brings up his birthday and Stiles scarfs it down, extra whipped cream and all.

 

Scott and Stiles settle for seeing the new X-Men movie for the third time. They wrestle over the popcorn in the dark (even though both of them are full from breakfast still and don’t end up eating half of it) and earn multiple complaints whispered by the women in front of them that giggled every three seconds over a cute guy. Stiles feels no shame in sticking his tongue out at them, especially when they scowl and look embarrassed.

 

“Happy happy birthday, more Hugh Jackman for me, happy birthday to me,” Stiles sings, blinks rapidly at sight of the sun, and hums happily to himself. “‘S it almost time to party?”

 

Mid-yawn, Scott checks his phone and nods. “Yeah, Erica texted me. Let’s go.”

 

Stiles nearly skips over to the Jeep and even lets Scott drive for him. He sticks his head out of the passenger side of his car and relaxes all the way to Derek’s house.

 

-

 

“Happy birthday!” Everyone choruses when they arrive, Stiles blinks in surprise at a sudden flash in his face. When the stars in his eyes fade, he beams at the state of Derek’s living room. Scott’s mom and his dad are tucked in a corner with a beer each, smiling warmly at the both of them, Erica and Boyd aren’t really paying attention, and Lydia is posting the picture she’d just taken of him on facebook. Isaac isn’t anywhere to found until Stiles walks further into the room and he can see him in the kitchen buzzing about. He gives him an awkward wave and Stiles returns it.

 

“Hey, thanks guys,” he says, sounding stupidly fond of his makeshift family. Scott pats him on the back,heavy, and joins Allison on the loveseat. Stiles’s eyes roam the room, he can’t help himself from asking, “Uh, where’s Derek at?” Lydia pointedly looks at the floor to avoid his gaze. He laughs awkwardly, says “Guys?”

 

“He left,” Erica tells him sharply. “He said he had something he needed to do or something.” She flicks a stray hair behind her head with an air of finality. Stiles’s dad’s eyes meet his sympathetically.

 

“Uh, right,” Stiles says. He feels the hurt bloom in his chest and it sits there in between his heart and his collarbone. Stiles forces himself to give his dad a tiny smile. “Well, isn’t it time for me to get drunk, or whatever? Good ol’ 21?”

 

Everyone seems too glad to change the subject, and his dad motions to a few bottles of choice alcohol set in a row on Derek’s reading table. Stiles’s heart pangs at the thought of Derek not being there again, but it seems reasonable that drinking is a better alternative to whining about his boyfriend missing his birthday party.

 

His dad pours him a tiny shot of Captain Morgan, and Stiles appreciates the burn as it goes down, swallows the bitter taste in his mouth over and over. It’s easy taking the next couple of shots and he feels heady and not-quite-drunk but almost there after about a half an hour. He’s leaning against the The base of his neck feels warm and itchy so he opens the collar on his green button-up.

 

“Do you want to open your presents or have your cake first?” Scott asks in his ear, leans against the wall with him, nursing a beer against his abdomen.

 

“Cake,” Erica says with no room for debate, and Stiles glares at her because _rude_.

 

Stiles considers for a few seconds, and because he feels so warm, he’s not quite up for having everyone watching him open his presents anyways. “Cake’s good.”

 

“Cake!” Lydia shouts into the kitchen, and Isaac finally appears for the first time since the party has started. Stiles can’t really see into the doorway over Scott’s huge shoulders, but he can hear the squeaking of something being rolled over the floor.

 

When the cake is in front of him, his grin is blinding. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

 

His cake is huge, and it’s blue and has a Captain America red-white-blue design all over it and generally it’s _awesome._ The candles burning on the top are long and sparkling, and Stiles kind of loves his friends.

 

“Did you make this Isaac?”

 

Isaac rolls his eyes at him. “Sort of.”

 

“Well it’s great,” Stiles pulls him into a forceful hug that Isaac tries his best to get out of, but Stiles is having none of it and tucks him into his side. Scott’s mom makes a happy noise at the two of them.

 

“Let’s sing!” Lydia demands, “before the candles burn out.”

 

“Yes please,” Stiles nods excitedly, “I would like a piece of that.” Erica snorts loudly, but Lydia glares at her and Stiles feels confused but maybe like he’s finally drunk and is imagining things. He turns back to the cake and hops on his toes, waits.

 

No one turns the lights off but they all sing, boisterous and loud and in his ears.

 

Stiles laughs and moves to blow out the candles--

 

but then it _explodes._ All over his face. All over the room and Stiles shrieks as cake splats onto his clothes, sticks to his skin, and he’s frozen with his palms out and his palms at his sides, body straight like a board. “What the _fuck,”_ he screams, and opens his eyes.

 

He can hear Erica cackling from her far-away spot in the corner (which he now realizes was planned, damn her) but the sight of Derek standing in the middle of the former-cake strikes him dumb and he isn’t paying attention to anything else. Derek’s got a present in his hands and he looks stupidly attractive even while covered in artificially colored frosting and chunks of vanilla cake. It’s even sticking to his _beard,_ for god’s sake.

 

The weight in his chest that’s been there since the party has started spills out with his surprised inhale. He approaches a furious-looking Derek, feet resting at the base of the cake, and runs a finger along the cake on his cheek, tastes it.

 

“They told me you would love the surprise,” Derek hisses to him. “I missed half of the party because I was sitting in the middle of a giant fucking _cake.”_

 

“I.”

 

“There’s some of it in my _ears,_ Stiles.”

 

Stiles laughs until he cries, continues laughing simply because of the affronted look Derek gives him for laughing at him, and licks the frosting off of his face and nose until Derek isn't glaring anymore, a hand on his waist and a grin breaking through the shade on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a birthday present for a dear friend of mine, and it was actually late, but that matters not! Because it ends a few days closer to my birthday too, so it ended up pretty well. Anyways, please leave comments and let me know what you thought, because I love hearing what you all have to say! (And hey, most of the time I post unbeta'd because no one will do it for me, so if you ever see any English errors that bug you, please inbox me and let me know so I can fix-eroo them! Thanks!)
> 
> The title is based off of "The Happy Happy Birthday Song" by the Arrogant Worms. I would listen to it to vastly improve your life.


End file.
